


This Is What It Feels Like

by yams



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Ep 19/20, F/F, ~feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 02:29:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4546728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yams/pseuds/yams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laura Hollis never knew much about pain. Not until Carmilla Karnstein came along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a massive portion of this fic directly after episode 19, so I've included some canon dialogue and actions from episode 20 within it—but I've taken small liberties with how certain events play out; it is aided by some of the transmedia.
> 
> For the heathens: I apologize, but this all ~feelings. However: soon.

The funny thing about pain is that it isn’t ashamed to be exactly what it is; disastrous, wistful, egocentric. Behind every story mark carved into skin, pain is there to steal the glory. It sighs into ears and invites the desperate back to bed—and they comply, because loving something broken is better than nothing at all.

Laura Hollis never knew much about pain. Not until Carmilla Karnstein came along.

“Alright, Lolita, time to make yourself useful.” Mattie burst through the door, a semi-conscious Carmilla tucked into her side. She was struggling to carry the vampire as she made her way to Laura. “Well, don’t just sit there gawking at us, get off your ass and help us!”

Carmilla attempted to speak as the two women moved her to the desk, the words falling from her lips in unintelligible undertones. She embodied death; her already fair complexion displayed an eerily ashen demeanor from the abrupt loss of blood. Her body betrayed her, trembling as the hole in her chest trailed crimson stains across her shirt. It was just another caustic reminder of her constant dance with fate—that elegant whore, salting wounds with a wry chuckle.

“I need your help,“ Mattie spat, her anger at the current state of affairs searing through Laura’s being. Her countenance lacked her usual confidence, now replaced with a genuine look of agonized panic.

Laura was still lost in her state of shock. This situation was something out of her worst nightmares; if she closed her eyes hard enough, maybe it would go back to be being just that—a nightmare. She sat in panicked silence, willing all of it away as she held the back of Carmilla’s head in the palm of her hand.

“Laura,” Mattie started in once again, her near-depleted patience hanging by a thread. More so than ever, she wasn’t in the mood to deal with children and their lack of applicable life skills. “Any assistance would be _wonderful_.”

The journalist didn’t miss the rancor dripping from Mattie’s words. She shook herself out of her mental prostration, worried eyes darting past a bleeding Carmilla as she trained them on Mattie.

“And what on earth do you expect me to do, _my liege_? I’m sorry I didn’t have time to pencil in pre-med between a giant, stupid anglerfish and an elderly German man who’s currently giving Orwell a run for his money.”

It was in that moment that Carmilla lurched forward, her body convulsing as her jaw went slack. Her head hung low, and Laura could see blood dripping from the corners of her mouth as it fell in drops to the desk. The vampire’s arms, still draped around both Mattie and Laura, lost what little tension they held.

Carmilla was slipping; what little life she clung to was reeling on a dark precipice.

“Oh, no no _no_.” Laura was quickly reaching her breaking point. She had already briefly experienced a reality where Carmilla died, and she wasn’t ready dive back into another one; a love lost twice was perhaps too much for any one woman to handle.

“Come on, you stupid vampire.” Laura’s mind sifted through years of information her father imparted on her in an attempt to pinpoint something—anything—that could aid in the current crisis.

Female. Chest wound. Arrow to the heart.

It was only days ago that Laura convinced herself that Cupid carried a gun; he must have lent his bow to someone far more savage.

Female. Chest wound. Arrow to the heart. The arrow in Mattie’s hand—the broken arrow.

The broken arrow whose silver head still made a home in Carmilla’s chest cavity.

 _Oh, crap_.

“We need to lay her down.” Laura was on her feet in an instant, Carmilla’s arm still draped over her shoulder. Mattie only glared and followed her lead, gripping her sister’s waist as she and Laura bore the brunt of Carmilla’s weight and dragged her semi-conscious body to the couch.

Once Carmilla was situated, blood stained arms falling slack to the floor, Laura couldn’t help but give her body another once-over. She looked so small—smaller than Laura imagined the centuries old woman could ever appear. With blood leaking from her chest and sunken eyes of black steel, Carmilla didn’t look immortal. She looked like an eighteen-year-old girl, lost in too big a world.

Broken. _Defeated_.

“What happened?” Laura was kneeling at Carmilla’s side, carefully brushing the vampire’s hair away to inspect the seeping wound.

“We were tracking some of Vordenberg’s souped-up henchbro’s across the North Quad,” Mattie began, an air of exasperation overtaking her tone. “It was a trap. They lead us into a shooting gallery—arrows everywhere.”

Mattie stepped closer to Carmilla, holding out the arrow in her hand.

“Congratulations,” Laura retorted with disbelief. “You finally got the Summers and the Zetas to cooperate.”

“She managed to drag me into the bushes, but they put an arrow into her chest. I think part of it’s still lodged in there. She needs blood.”

With Laura’s suspicions confirmed, she pointed Mattie to the stored blood packets in the fridge, turning her attention back to her bleeding ex-girlfriend. She wasn’t ready to admit out loud that she had kept the blood in hopes Carmilla would come home.

“Hey,” she whispered softly to Carmilla, her breath coming in heavy, scared bursts. She reached out her hand to gently cup Carmilla’s face, turning it towards her slightly. Laura refused to let her fear take over—but it was putting up one hell of a fight. She needed the shallow rise and fall of the vampire’s chest to be her anchor; in turn, she’d do her best to be Carmilla’s.

Mattie returned in mere seconds, shotgunning a blood bag as she rushed to Carmilla’s side. She tipped the bag into Carmilla’s mouth, squeezing the bottom as she gently coaxed the crimson liquid down her sister’s throat.

“Here’s some liquid courage.” Mattie’s voice was filled with nothing but concern as she stared down at her sister, willing her to move.

Carmilla finally stirred, her eyes fluttering open slightly as she grimaced at the alarming amount of blood in her mouth. It took her a moment to realize most of it wasn’t her own.

“Where did you bring me?” Carmilla’s voice came out in a dissonant whisper, pain lacing her features with every word. Her head bobbed slowly as she tried to take in her surroundings, turning enough to meet Laura’s eyes.

“Oh, _perfect_.” Carmilla may have been the one with the wound, but Laura couldn’t help but feel like her own heart had been ripped from her chest. She did her best to plaster on a disaffected guise.

“Yeah, terrific to see you too,” Laura spoke with a hint of trepidation. She was desperate to steer the conversation elsewhere; Carmilla was dying—something needed to happen.

“She needs a surgeon… or _someone_ who spends way too much time thinking about human dissection.”

“Terrific,” Mattie began. “Rustle up one of your mad scientists and let’s get this show on the road.” She brushed a lock of hair from Carmilla’s eyes as the vampire squirmed in pain, a slight whimper escaping her lips.

Laura was torn. The bottom line was that without removing the arrowhead, Carmilla would bleed out and die; there was no sugarcoating the harsh reality of their abysmal situation. But Laura couldn’t help but feel weighed down by her sense of overwhelming obligation. She couldn’t let her feelings for Carmilla cloud her judgment. In her mind, the sisters were still in rampage mode—and now they had a free pass back inside the house. Taking into account that the duo was still being hunted by everyone on campus 5’10” or higher, it was a dangerous situation for all involved.

Laura needed leverage, and it came in the form of a dying ex-lover.

“No.” Laura stood firm in her convictions, stepping away from the sisters as she attempted to command an air of authority.

“ _What?_ ” Mattie was instantly in Laura’s face, her usual angered look of distaste returning to her features. She looked as if she was ready to bleed the journalist dry.

“I’m not risking my friends lives—not until we have an understanding.” She met the vampire’s eyes, her arms falling awkwardly by her side as she spoke with confidence. “You can threaten me all you want, but we both know killing me won’t save Carm.”

She glanced quickly at the girl lying on the couch, her ashen skin looking worse than it did before. Laura had to act quickly. She mustered up the rest of her courage, speaking in a rapid, precise manner.

“I’ll call Laf and JP, and then I will hide you two in here until she recovers. In return, neither of you are going to bite, maim, or kill anyone. At all. _For any reason_. Understood?”

Left with no choice, Mattie reluctantly agreed.

“ _Understood_. Get your friend.” She didn’t attempt to disguise the bitterness in her voice.

Laura was out of the room in an instant. She felt a pang of guilt over the fact that she used first-aid as leverage, but she had a house full of lives to think about. She was more than aware that Carmilla meant the world to Mattie; it was the only weakness she knew the vampire to possess. If she had to use that against her, so be it. It allowed Laura to have the upper hand in her distressing position. She was getting the better end of an all-around shitty deal.

Safety for her friends. Safety for her love.

Laura soon returned with two gingers and the corporeal flash drive in tow, all of them wiping sleep from their eyes.

“Seriously Laura,” Laf started in, “it is one am—oh, hello to the chest trauma.”

Laura guided the trio over to Carmilla’s place on the couch, lifting the vampire’s body slightly and allowing Laura to lean it against her. Laf took a brief moment to inspect Carmilla’s wound, still leaking blood—a stark contrast against her deathly white skin.

Carmilla’s breath came in shallow, ragged bursts; it was a jarring sight for the young journalist. The only side of Carmilla that Laura ever really knew was strong and indomitable. She always imagined her life ending long before Carmilla’s—but as the raven-haired girl stained her arms red, a part of her was reminded that time betrayed everyone; you can only escape Death’s gaze for so long.

Laf and JP took a moment to chat seriously about their surgical plan while prepping Carmilla, but Laura could barely make out exactly what they were speaking of. The most she heard from the conversation was something about ether and an uncanny ability to clean and jerk a Mazda.

“Laur,” Laf began, looking to the girl with sympathetic eyes. “You should probably go take a seat.” She pointed to the desk with her pliers, hoping Laura’s stubbornness would momentarily take a backseat.

Laura only nodded, brushing one last strand of hair from Carmilla’s neck and chastly kissing it as she laid her back down. It was the most contact the two had shared in what seemed like a lifetime; Laura yearned for it to be under different circumstances. She knew no other way to express her conflicting emotions—but if she had to face repercussions for it, she’d do so willingly.

Whatever ether Laf supplied Carmilla did little to deter her fighting spirit. The minute Laf’s hands entered the vampire, a loud groan tore through the room. It was as if a second wave of life overcame Carmilla, and she gripped the edge of the couch, gritting her teeth as the inexperienced pseudo-surgeon prodded at the wound in her chest.

Laura could do nothing but watch as Carmilla writhed on the couch, blood pouring from her wound while Laf and JP worked to remove the arrowhead. Everything was happening too fast; her mind was reeling, attempting to process every action taking place. She felt the weight of the room’s agony resting on her shoulders, digging itself deep into her bones like tainted marrow.

Mattie stood off in the corner, her eyes boring into Laf as they continued their work. Her hands were balled into fists, tightening with each strangled noise of agony that escaped Carmilla’s lips.

“ _Got it!_ ” Laf shouted, disrupting the near-tangible tension that filled the air. The redhead covered the gaping hole in Carmilla’s chest and moved to where Laura sat. The journalist let out a heavy breath, finally realizing she’d hardly employed her lungs throughout the procedure. She wanted to feel an irrepressible sense of relief, but it was all too much to handle. As she got up to move to Carmilla, Mattie sidestepped into her path. It was a delicate exhortation to stay away; a lucid reminder that Carmilla didn’t need Laura.

Mattie strode to Laf’s side, her deft hands whisking the arrowhead from the their bloodied palms. She inspected it as she made her way to Carmilla, searching for any further signs of foul play. When she reached her sister, she knelt down beside her and whispered softly in her ear, her hand sweetly combing through Carmilla’s dark, tangled curls. Laura watched with anguished eyes, wishing to be the one Carmilla needed. She craved nothing more than to be the one Carmilla wanted.

Laura could pretend she was over Carmilla all she wanted, but she’d never be able to fool anyone. The sting in her eyes and the ache in every resounding heartbeat rattling through her chest was all the proof of that.

“I’ve never operated on a live specimen,” Laf remarked, a smug look crossing their face. They never had a victim of their science put up a fight, and it was more than evident in the beads of sweat they proceeded to wipe from their forehead.

“Brilliant improvisation,” Mattie spat in retort, the mockery in her words almost tangible. “ _Truly masterful_.”

The sarcasm clearing their head, Laf continued on, their pride still in full effect.

“Yeah, I wanted to teach a seminar on reanimation methods, but the administration said I ‘ _wasn’t allowed to conduct non-sponsored workshops that levied exorbitant fees not directly credited to the University._ ’ I mean, I was only going to ask for donations… someone stole my favorite proctoscope.” They ran a hand through a tuft of orange hair before shrugging and returning to Carmilla’s side; they needed to make sure the wound was properly cleaned and bandaged before they retired back to bed.

Carmilla laid half-conscious on the couch, her chest finding a healthy rhythm. With the arrowhead out, the group hoped her recovery would be swift.

Silence fell as one by one, everyone cleared the room, leaving a sulking Laura to listen to the sisters chat quietly to each other. But the awkwardness didn’t last long, as it was disrupted by Perry as she burst through the door, consternation lining her face.

“Perry,” Laura started, snapping out of her internal abstraction. “I thought we were going to talk later?”

“We don’t have time for that… the Stormtroopers are coming.”

Mattie was up in an instant, lifting up a groaning Carmilla.

“Hot chocolate girl,” she demanded, “make yourself useful and hide this mess.” She nodded to the couch as she used her foot to sweep away a rug lining the floor, revealing an almost indiscernible door.

The trap doors. The secret passages. Laf was right.

Mattie crouched down with Carmilla still clinging to her side and threw open the door with ease, allowing the pair to slip inside.

“Mattie, I’m not a damned rag doll,” Carmilla growled, clearly unimpressed with her current flouncing.

“There’s no need to be _grumpy_ , dear. We’ll have you out soon—as long as these imbeciles can keep their traps sealed.” Mattie glared up at Laura, her eyes conveying nothing but contempt.

“You’d be grumpy too if some lackwit with a crossbow shot you in the tit,” Carmilla replied as she edged her body deeper into the passage, leaning on Mattie for support.

The last thing the room heard from the vampires as the trap door closed was a warm, throaty laugh from Mattie. She was all too happy to have Carmilla back.

If only Laura could, too.


	2. Chapter 2

Lungs are funny little organs. Important little organs.

Oxygen is needed in every cell of a body in order to sustain one’s existence—that’s where lungs come in. They work together with other organs and tissues to move air through the body, all while flushing out toxic elements. A human heart pumps life through bloodstreams, and the lungs work to oxygenate that life. It’s all very vital.

Lungs are important little organs, and Laura Hollis was all-too-aware of how hers constricted. And how, when she sucked in as much breath as she could, she still felt like she didn’t have any at all.

She sat alone at the foot of an empty bed, clutching her head in her hands as she struggled to understand why, that at nineteen years old, she felt her heart live, die, and live again. The trauma it had caused her body was growing to be too much; she was tired of the vicious cycle her life seemed to be wrapped in.

The phantoms at the edge of her dreams were finally spilling forth into reality. She was breaking down.

It was only 20 minutes ago that her bloodied ex-girlfriend was dragged under the house, slipping away from those intent on hunting her. Those intent on killing her.

When Danny and the rest of the Summers made their way into the house, they wore marks on their foreheads like some sick badge of honor; anointed by power, consecrated by a decades-long vendetta. They were Silas’ new law—the same old chaos shrouded in a student-friendly cloak. With bloodied knuckles clutching bows, they wasted little time with formalities, instead opting to search the house for any signs that the vampiric sisters had occupied it.

“You know aiding and abetting those _bloodsuckers_ is an act of sedition, Hollis,” Mel urged as she scanned the room. She was the Summer’s ringleader—tough as nails, a no-nonsense attitude radiating from every ounce of her being.

Laura did nothing but shrug—it was all her body allowed her to do. She couldn’t exactly make out the words being said around her. All she knew was that the women in her house were looking for Carmilla, and if they found the wounded girl bleeding beneath their feet, it wouldn’t be pretty. Laura was sure that the Summers weren’t idiotic enough to unleash a storm of arrows inside a house filled with innocent civilians. But it wouldn’t take that many arrows to down Carmilla.

They just needed one.

Danny stood in silence, her eyes trained on Laura. She knew Carmilla had been there. She knew the instant the arrow flew through the panther’s chest that she’d wind up back in Laura’s arms; it was just another addition to the checklist that was her internal struggle. Her loyalty to her Summer Sisters was wavering, replaced by a sense of love and accountability to her friends. To Laura. To the shitty gray area they all seemed to lived in.

“Mel, they’re not here.” Danny tore her eyes away from Laura to stare down her Summer Sister. “And frankly we’re wasting time harassing Laura when we could be out tracking fang-face and her sister. We’ve already lost daylight, and even injured they’re more adept at surviving at night.”

Danny gave one more glance to Laura before turning on her heels, hoping the hunters would follow suit. She would get the Summer Society off the vampire’s trail. As much as she disliked Carmilla, she’d be an idiot to think the girl was half as bad as she made herself out to be. And Laura loved her—that would have to be enough for now. She needed it to be enough for now.

“We need to move.” Danny stormed out, her sisters hot on her heels, leaving only a suspicious Mel standing in the middle of the room. She continued to inspect every nook and cranny, convinced the bloodsucking sisters were in the vicinity.

She finally blew out a tempered breath, turning to Laura as she left the room.

“Remember Hollis—you can’t keep this up forever. It won’t be long until they’ll be bleeding you dry, too.”

And just like that, she was gone.

That was 20 minutes ago.

Now Laura sat alone at the foot of an empty bed, clutching her head in her hands as she struggled to understand why her lungs twisted inside her chest.

When you’re broken, love will nurse you back to pieces. But those pieces rest on fault lines, ready to shatter again at the slightest rumble. And whatever tornado was revolving inside Laura was growing and roaring and destroying everything she spent nineteen years building.

It was nearly two am—Laura knew she should be sleeping. But every ounce of emotion she buried during the night’s events was finally bursting forth, and she could do nothing but allow her despondent sentiments to consume her.

Her eyes burned as her breath stuck in her throat. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t allow her selfish love to destroy her. She wouldn’t allow sorrow to tread on her will.

But Laura didn’t realize that it already had. The minute she kissed Carmilla in that soundless 307, their lips moving in unspoken admissions, was the minute she allowed love to destroy her. She knew she’d have to sacrifice certain things to be together—she just didn’t know it would be this.

But that’s love, isn’t it? Whisky eyes and laughing with a mouth full of words unsaid. Tangled fingers and crooked spines. Bare flesh and burning desire.

Love will have its sacrifices. No sacrifice without blood.

A sudden knock at the door caused Laura to jolt back to reality. She stood, taking a minute to rub her eyes with the palm of her hand. Her breathing still came in shallow, strained bursts; she attempted to take a few deep ones before wiping nonexistent wrinkles from her shirt and marching to the door.

When she opened it, she was face-to-face with Carmilla. Her skin was beginning to return to its usual pallor, but she still adorned her crimson-stained clothing.

They stood in shocked silence for a moment, both very much aware of the palpable awkwardness hanging between them. Carmilla could tell Laura had been fighting tears, and she grappled for a moment with the snark that rested on the tip of her tongue.

Laura was the first to speak, plastering on the most neutral tone she could.

“ _What?_ ” It came out strained. _Way to go, Hollis_.

Carmilla sighed, already regretting what she was about to ask.

“Look, Cupcake, I…” She sighed again, her pride throwing punches to her gut. “I need your help.”

Laura continued to stare at Carmilla as she attempted to hide the incredulous look that threatened to break through her unphased countenance.

“Laura, you know I wouldn't be asking favors from you if I had any other goddamn choice. Hell, I’d even enlist June Cleaver to help me if she didn’t lock her damn door at night—and you’re obviously awake.” She lifted her right hand slightly, pointing to Laura’s red eyes. It was as much of a dig as she’d allow herself to make—at least until she got what she came for.

She tried to convince herself that was the reason.

Laura narrowed her eyes, not missing the subtle snark in Carmilla’s tone. Every fiber of her being told her to close the door, but she continued to grip the handle as she stepped back to give space for Carmilla to step through.

The still-injured vampire moved as swiftly as she could past Laura, unsure of just how long the invitation would remain open. When she turned to face the journalist, she found her leaning against the now-closed door, her arms crossed in front of her body. It was her own little way of telling Carmilla to speak, and do so quickly.

Carmilla fidgeted for a moment, unsure of how to properly ask for a favor. She wasn’t used to relying on other people, let alone an ex-lover who was obviously in no mood to help.

“As you can probably deduce, I’m not exactly in any condition to fend for myself, and as much as it pains me to ask—and believe you me, _it does_ —I need your assistance.”

Laura raised her eyebrow slightly. Her voice was quiet and unmoving as she spoke.

“Are you going ask me for a favor, are you going to stand around insulting me a little more?”

A small smirk broke out on Carmilla face, the edge of her lip creeping upward slightly.

“Not that I don’t enjoy lounging around in my own blood, as I’m sure it makes me look positively threatening, but I’d really love to call it a night—and I’d enjoy it more if I wasn’t sleeping in my own filth and…”

Her voice broke off for a minute. She struggled with the forwardness of her request.

“I need you to help me change. Mattie’s out getting more blood, and I can’t exactly lift my arm—let alone do much else other than brood. I’m sure you realize that that’s a key component to taking off a shirt.”

Laura laughed, breaking the tension that had crept its way into the room. Carmilla took it as a sign of pure indignation; she was suddenly flooded with embarrassment over her query.

“You know what? Fine. I don’t need your help.” She hobbled over to the dresser, pulling it open with her good arm and fumbling around until she pulled out a plain black t-shirt. She took a seat on the edge of the bed as she attempted to wrestle her blood-stained shirt off her body. With each movement, she stifled small grunts of pain.

From Laura’s perspective, it was a heartbreaking sight. She watched as Carmilla tried to contort her body into a comfortable position. She succeeded in freeing one arm, but it was as far as she got before she clutched the bandage on her chest, growling lowly.

Laura sighed deeply, pushing herself off the door and walking until she was directly in front of Carmilla.

“Stop moving,” she spoke softly, “you’re just going to hurt yourself more.”

She took the hem of Carmilla’s shirt in her hands and brought it up over the vampire’s head with carefully calculated movement. Beneath it, Carmilla adorned a stark white bandage, stained lightly with blood. Her chest still wore remnants of her injury; crimson marks were scattered everywhere, a sign of survival.

Once the shirt was free, Laura slid it softly down Carmilla’s left arm until she sat clothed in nothing but her pants and bra. Laura was careful to train her eyes on everything but the glowing white skin in front of her.

“Come on, cutie. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” Carmilla’s tone tried to convey sarcasm, but Laura could detect hints of nervous anguish.

Laura tried to ignore it, instead grabbing for the t-shirt next to Carmilla. She shook it out slightly before holding over Carmilla’s head. The vampire straightened her spine, allowing the girl to carefully drape it over her shoulders. Laura continued to work the shirt on Carmilla’s body as the vampire spoke.

“You know,” she began, her tone laced with trepidation, “I still remember the day I walked into our dorm room to find you complaining about me to the ginger squad. You were bitching about something I did, but the minute my shirt came off, your shut up fairly quick.”

Carmilla chuckled softly at the memory as Laura finished clothing her. She fiddled with the bandage on her chest through her new threads.

“Yeah,” Laura giggled slightly, matching Carmilla’s bout of nostalgia. “You’re kind of shameless when it comes to your state of undress.” They both shared a another laugh, their heads swimming with memories.

“I never thought I’d admit it,” Carmilla confessed, “but I think I miss that ridiculous dorm room. Those days, things were… simpler.”

“If by simple you mean trying to take down your mother, almost failing out of every class, and becoming concussed by flying tomatoes, then yeah… simpler.”

The pair let their chuckles die until nothing but silence filled the room. Neither girl wanted to break whatever moment they currently shared; it was the first time in weeks that their interactions had been amicable.

“Do you miss me?” The words were hardly audible as they left Carmilla’s lips. She had her head turned towards the door, afraid to face Laura and her answer.

“You shouldn’t ask me things like that, Carmilla.” The journalist’s voice wavered, her eyes overcome with a small sting. Carmilla turned her head to meet Laura’s red-eyed gaze.

“Why?”

“Because you know the answer to that,” Laura whispered. “Don’t pretend like you don’t.”

Carmilla reached out slightly to take Laura’s hand in her own. She pulled slowly, hoping the girl would follow her movements. Carmilla stilled briefly as she felt Laura tense—but she didn’t pull away. Instead she moved to take a seat next to the vampire, their hands still lightly entwined.

“Attempting to convince myself I deserve better but knowing I got exactly what was coming to me is my own hellish paradox.” Carmilla fiddled nervously with Laura’s hand, willing the contact to last as long as possible.

“What?” Laura inquired, briefly confused by Carmilla’s words. The raven-haired girl sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly.

“I never wanted any of this to happen. We were supposed to get away, Laura. We were supposed to leave this idiot-infested cesspool and never come back.” The grip she had on Laura’s hand tightened, her anger at the situation getting the best of her.

Laura wasn’t quite sure what to say; for once, words failed her. She squeezed Carmilla’s hand in her own, pulling the vampire down so that the mess of dark curls rested in her lap. She untangled her fingers from Carmilla’s, opting instead to run her hands delicately through the vampire’s hair.

They sat like that for a stretch, the two of them finding synchronization in breaths as the clock ticked away on the wall. Both girls had their eyes closed in an attempt to prolong the comfort of the situation. Their two bodies were nestled perfectly against each other, sharing warmth with slow-beating hearts.

Laura no longer felt grief constricting her lungs, and Carmilla could hardly make out the subtle throbbing of her wound.

All they felt were each other. For the first time in weeks, they only felt each other.

Laura wondered how long the moment would last. She wondered how long it would be until Carmilla put on her most disaffected facade and pretended to be the monster she claimed she was.

She wondered how long it would be until they pretended not to love each other again.

Her heart heaved at the thought; she was sure Carmilla could hear the steady beat falter. She continued to run her hands through dark curls, setting loose tangles free as her fingers tenderly brushed Carmilla’s scalp. It wasn’t until the clock sent three steady chimes through the room that the pair realized it was growing too late.

Their time together was coming to an end. They couldn't ignore the problems that faced them in the morning. They couldn’t ignore the rage and misunderstanding stewing in the back of their minds; they could only pretend for so long. They had been granted nearly an hour. It was all the fates had in store for them.

Laura leaned down, pressing lingering kiss to Carmilla’s temple. The vampire savoured the warmth of the girl’s mouth, her aching heart pining for more than a small brush of lips upon her skin.

Carmilla lifted her head as Laura snuck out from beneath her. The smaller girl gazed around the room before turning to Carmilla, her body still resting on the edge of the bed.

“Um,” she began softly, “you’re injured so it’s only right that you take the bed. My dad always told me a good night’s sleep is vital to the healing process.” Her voice took on a brusque tone in an attempt to imitate her father, her arm swinging in front of her.

Carmilla brought her lips up into a smile as she slowly dragged her body up and off the bed.

“No can do, Cupcake. Vampiric constitution trumps lower-back pain.” She winked, hoping Laura would appreciate another poignant stab of nostalgia.

As Carmilla made her way to the door, Laura called out to her.

“You, Mattie and I have a lot to talk about,” she informed Carmilla. “So, be ready to talk about all this in the morning?” She ended her sentence in a questioning tone, hoping that this wasn't to be the last interaction the two had.

“Goodnight, Laura,” Carmilla deflected, turning the handle on the door and walking out. Before she closed it fully behind her, she let out one final sentiment.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” The door shut quietly, leaving Laura alone once again, the same familiar sting in her eyes.

She threw herself on the bed in a huff, rolling until the found the warmth of where Carmilla once laid. She kicked a blanket towards her, grabbing and draping it over her shoulders as she closed her tired eyes. She hoped that whatever sleep her body offered up would come before the cold sunk its way back into the sheets.

* * *

When Laura woke with the light of early morning—her half-lidded eyes scanning the common room in search of raven locks and a roguish smirk—she found nothing.

The only sign that Carmilla had ever been there was a small red stain soaked into the corner of the couch. And even that, like everything else in her life, would fade with time. Everything faded with time.

Laura Hollis never knew much about pain. But if she was going to let any form of suffering eat her alive, she may as well put a familiar face to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> thebonegardens.tumblr.com


End file.
